Sherlock's Surprise Soiree
by constantlycold
Summary: Written for a Holiday exchange on tumblr. Sherlock's Birthday is January 6th. How will he spend it after the whole Moriarty/Magnussen ordeal? Will anyone remember it?


Sherlock quickly exited the cab, somehow managing to throw back to appropriate amount of change to the cabbie as he took his leave. He bounced up the seventeen steps towards his destination with ease. He hated it when Mycroft sent him little teasers like this. This was _Moriarty_ they were dealing with; there was no time to fib around and play dumb. It was already bad enough he didn't have John helping him all the time these days. Now Sherlock was forced to do everything himself, including the ever-so- dull legwork.

Nearing the flat, he mentally prepared himself to do at least three hours of research on his laptop. Admittedly, it would be easier with the help of someone else. Perhaps he could try hiring someone from his homeless network? That Billy kid seemed helpful enough, though he was _no_ John.

Without trying, he silently shoved the door open and almost immediately was bombarded with a massive amount of noise, shouts and noisemakers being blown at the same time.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHERLOCK!"

The sound of five people yelling his name all at the same time was almost enough to make him curse. His birthday? Was it really January 6th? He didn't even remember New Year's passing by. The last time he actually took the time to celebrate his birthday was years ago with John, before his fall. He normally didn't care for it; there was no point. What was the point of celebrating another year passing? Celebrating the fact you were another year closer to death? It never made sense and he never had to worry about it during his adult life until he had met John. John was always very adamant he celebrate it, and so they did.

Speaking of the army doctor, John was here tonight. He was the first thing Sherlock saw once his eyes adjusted to the bright lights and neon colours bouncing off the streamers that were hung all throughout the living room. Who had done all this decorating? Was it Mrs. Hudson?

"Happy Birthday, Sherlock!" John said was he approached him, breaking him from his previous thoughts. Sherlock noted the older man was wearing a hideous dark blue jumper that had a big "Happy Birthday" written in large, block, pink letters that made him want to cringe. Suddenly Sherlock felt John's warm hands wrap around his waist as he was pushed against the smaller body and into a tight embrace.

Almost as soon as he got comfortable against his friends body, the sound of noisemakers sounded again, distracting him from the moment.

"Happy Birthday, mate!" He heard from Lestrade, immediately drawing his attention towards the DI. With this action, John released him he could finally take in the state of the living room. Ribbons and streamers hanged from the ceilings, their length threatening to touch the floor in some places, candy dishes spread out across the tables. Clearly someone had gone to great trouble to make this look as festive as possible.

There was food everywhere too, all his favourites. No doubt Mrs. Hudson was the main contributor, although he thought he could see a plate of Molly's spicy caramel cupcakes as well. That must have meant she was here too. Taking a quick glance at the room, he spied the familiar redhead, along with another, less fortunate face. To his counting there was John, Molly, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and _Anderson_? Anderson of all people was at his surprise birthday party? He would need to speak to John about this, all assuming the good doctor was responsible. He honestly couldn't think of anyone else that would go through the amounts of effort to do this for him, but he also thought John was still upset with him. Why would the man go to all this trouble? It wasn't like he didn't appreciate the thought, but he still had a case to solve. Mycroft had given him a lead he had to follow up, and playing _'Birthday Party' _wasn't high on his list of priorities.

"As happy as I am to see you all," he tried to hide his sarcasm, though he couldn't bother seeming overly excited as the words left his mouth. Yes, he had appreciated the gesture, but not in the middle of a case. "I'm actually in the middle of a case and I need you all to leave and-"

"There is no lead, Sherlock." John stated flatly, interrupting him, although Sherlock could see the other man was holding back a laugh.

"What?"

"Mycroft, he sent you here?" The smile his friend was trying so desperately to hide was becoming more and more obvious as pure and utter smugness took a hold, something that only begun to irritate Sherlock. How did John know about this? Sherlock was puzzled to say the least, but still kept up his stoic persona for the people viewing.

"What do you mean? Yes, he sent me here. We have been corresponding the past few weeks about the reappearance of Moriarty." Surely John knew this.

"Yes, well, there isn't a lead on your laptop. There was no lead to begin with." John explained, though Sherlock was still having trouble believing what was being said.

"What do you mean no lead?" Surely this couldn't all be a set-up. With the time and effort spent… no, it couldn't be.

"It's a fake." John stated before giving a small pause while Sherlock collected his thoughts. At this point, Sherlock was quite confident he knew where this was going, but it all begged the question as to why John would go through with this, Mycroft included.

"I asked Mycroft to help keep you away from the flat all day and then texted him when we were ready for you to arrive. To his credit, it didn't even take you fifteen minutes after my text for you to arrive." Sherlock stood there in shock; though he was fairly confident he managed to look composed. It now all made sense. The early morning text from Mycroft offering to help, the multiple messages he got throughout the day leading him on a rabbit's case around London. John had done all this?

"Mycroft helped you?" He raised his eyebrow in question as he met the blue eyes of his partner. It didn't seem like something his brother would do, which is what made him question everything about it. If, and that was still a big if, Mycroft did this, than he must have had some ulterior motive… something John may have been oblivious to John simply nodded his head.

"Yes. I initially invited him to the party, but he declined and offered to distract you all morning with a case. He said it would be his birthday present to you _not_ to appear here today." And what a wonderful present it was. No fat Mycroft on his birthday, that was good. Still though, was all his work this morning for nothing?

"So…" Sherlock had to pause there for a second, just to let the finality of what he is saying take effect since the words and reality of them were _clearly_ more gravely important to him than anybody else.

"There is no lead?" He had to ask just once more, which only made the army doctor in front of him burst out in playful laughter.

"No, there is no lead! That was just his excuse to get you back at the flat."

"Oh, I see." He let his disappointment show in a long sigh. He didn't really know how he felt about that. Even as children, Mycroft had showed very little interest in celebrating his birthday, so why would this year be any exception?

He was brought out of his thoughts when Mrs. Hudson came and patted him on the shoulder. He looked down to see she had one of those ridiculous birthday hats in her hands, her eager hands gesturing for him to lower his head. He shook his head instead, clearly objecting to the idea.

"No thank you, Mrs. Hudson. I don't think that's necessary-"

"Oh yes it is!" He heard John say and before he could object any further, John was already reaching up and placing the silly hat on his head, the tight strap cutting into his skin. Just when he thought matters couldn't get any worse, he could hear the timid voice of Molly come up from behind him.

"And you can't forget this too!" Molly quickly entered his vision as she handed what appeared to be a pin into John's hand. He couldn't get a good look at it before it landed in John's palm, but based on the size it was one of those special birthday monstrosities people often wore while he secretly mocked. He watched as John careful placed the pin right over his heart, those nimble surgeons' hands working soundlessly. Although he wanted to put an end to this madness, it was clear that this evening was more for John than it was for him, and he didn't have the heart to ruin it. Once the pin was properly secured, Sherlock felt as John gave him a quick pat before pulling away, a wide grin covering his features.

"There, now you look the part." John's smile only seemed to grow larger as Sherlock felt all the eyes in the room now settling in on him and his embarrassment, and he was forced to put on a fake smile as he looked up to greet them.

"Um, thank you all for coming. I… um…" He paused, trying his best to come up with the correct usage of words. He was never good when he was put on the spot, too many bad experiences.

"I'm not really good with birthdays since I don't really see the point in celebrating another year closer to death. In reality, there is no real point to birthdays other to self-indulge and force your friends to awkwardly buy gifts for you in order to make you feel better about this-" He was about to continue you until he heard a sudden and rather loud clearing of a throat, something he could only had assumed came from John. Okay, change tactics then. Doing his best not to be awkward, he cleared his own throat before putting on the world's fakest smile, something he had mastered at the age of ten.

"Thank you all for coming. It's been an interesting year, full of our own experiences and heartbreak." He couldn't help but spare a glance over to John, feeling his own heart break for a split second for all the pain he has put his friend through these past few years. It wasn't like it was pure with malicious intent, but he knew he was prone to being selfish and John had borne the brute force of that in most recent times.

"That being said, I'm glad you are all here to celebrate today with me." That sounded like the right thing to say. John seemed to approve, as did Mrs. Hudson judging by their sincere smiles.

"Oh, Sherlock, it's so good to have you back." He then felt the small and fragile figure of Mrs. Hudson as she leaned forward to engage into hug. He had no choice but to return the embrace, though pulled his chest away from her quickly to gain as much space as he could. Touching wasn't one of his strong suits, especially when they held such little purpose, such as now.

"Here, have a drink, mate!" Lestrade's voice quickly entered into his mind and just as soon as Mrs. Hudson distanced herself from him, Lestrade was there to take her place, throwing some form of drink into his face, and with that the party started back up again. Molly turned on a CD of classical music on a stereo he didn't even know he owned and he quickly dismissed it as something John must have brought. Drink now and hand, he witnessed as Molly and Lestrade both settled into a deep conversation and John was helping himself to one of the many treats Mrs. Hudson had made.

"These are truly heavenly, Mrs. Hudson." John's voice was heard as he managed to stuff yet another biscuit in his mouth. Sherlock smiled at the act which he suspected was supposed to be discrete and was about to approach the other man before he felt a bony, clammy, hand grab his shoulder and spun him around. He was then greeted with the sight of Anderson. Ah yes, he had almost forgotten about him.

"I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, on behalf of me and all your fans." Anderson said in his usual nasally voice. Sherlock was almost equally as disgusted just having the vile creature so near to him. Why was he at the party? Was it some type of sick joke? He quickly gave the man a once over. Same unshaven face, same greasy hair, skin so pale it was almost translucent. Taking a closer look, he spotted slight scratches on the legs of the trousers and the faint smell of catnip indicated that the man had at least three new furry companions living with him. Sherlock almost felt bad for the felines.

"Um, yes. Thank you for being here Anderson." He forced himself to answer as politely as possible since he knew John would hear about it if he didn't. The man hadn't really changed since he last saw him only days after returning back to London.

"You know, you should really come join me for one of the weekly meetings with your fanclub. The Empty Hearse-"

"No, I think that's okay Anderson. I'll survive." No way was he going to join in a discussion about all his previous cases with a whole bunch of idiotic teenagers with Anderson as their leader. Talking about past cases is something he would only ever consider talking about with John and John alone. If Anderson was so desperate, he should see if John wanted to talk to them. No doubt his friend would be more than willing, especially if it were to further the education of the 'great minds of tomorrow'.

"Well, if you're sure, I mean I really think we could help-"

"Who invited you here in the first place?" Sherlock interrupted, not wanting to deal with any more useless dialogue with Anderson than necessary. All he needed to know now was who decided to invite the useless employed fool whose only claim to fame was a fan group around somebody who despised him.

"John did. Said it would be a good gathering of all of your friends. Honestly, I was quite honored to even be considered based on how our relationship even started, but now it's just a complete surprise and I really am honored you-"

That was all he needed to know, and quickly interrupted the slimy man yet again.

"That's enough, thank you Anderson. Why don't you go talk to Mrs. Hudson. Her sister has five cats and I'm sure she will have some suggestions to deal with your feline problem."

"What feline problem? How do know I have cats" He barked back.

"Obvious. Scratches on your trousers, your right arm, three inches from the elbow there are a few kitty litter particles stuck to your shirt, not to mention you carry the faint aroma of fish and catnip. Not a wild guess to conclude you have cats now." Anderson looked horrified at his deductions, but Sherlock just smiled. He always loved to get a rise out of the other man. If he wanted to truly embarrass him, he would mention the fact the other man had not had intercourse in at least a year, but he figured he would leave that part out.

"Cats Phillip? Oh, you must tell me!" That came from Molly as she suddenly stopped her conversation with Lestrade to stand up and walk over to Anderson. For his part, Anderson's face turned a rather amusing shade of red. Sherlock took Molly's entrance as his cue to leave and he quickly took her vacated seat next to Lestrade.

From his new vantage point he could see where everyone placed his birthday presents. Normally he didn't really care for gifts. He had everything he needed and anything else he wanted was easy enough to buy. He could easily see the five gifts. Within moments of looking at them he had a pretty good idea of what they were.

Anderson's was obvious. Lazy wrapping paper and based on the size of the box it was another one of those horrendous dear stalker hats. Perhaps this one even had his name on it. It didn't matter; he couldn't wear it. Moving on, he saw an over the top birthday bag. This one was no doubt from Molly, although based on the size and the fact it was in a bag, perhaps it was the human ears he had requested ages ago for an experiment. He couldn't tell for sure, but it looked like the bag was big enough for a cooler. Excellent! If this whole Moriarty business today was only something to distract him, at least he could conduct this experiment tonight.

Beside Molly's gift was one that was obviously from Lestrade. It was efficiently wrapped. It looked to be something masculine and not personal, perhaps a wallet or something long those lines. That was okay, he actually wouldn't mind a new wallet, and although knowing Lestrade this one was probably dull looking. Standing next to Lestrade's gift was one from Mrs. Hudson, sweets and a gift card no doubt. Not hard to deduce that. She gets him the same thing every year for Christmas.

Next to Mrs. Hudson's gift was the one true mystery. John somehow always managed to surprise Sherlock with his gifts, something that only attracted him to the man even more. Every year Sherlock thought he knew what he was getting, it turned out he was completely wrong. He had no idea what was in this box. It was very neatly wrapped in a large box, no deformation to give it away. He thought back, but he honestly couldn't remember what John had gotten him for Christmas. That whole day was a bit of a blur to him right now. He must have deleted the information about the gifts at some point. He was about to go pick it up to shake it when Lestrade's hand popped out and swatted his hand away.

"Oh, no you don't! Can't you just deduce what it is without shaking it?" The DI asked, although there was a hint of humor in his voice.

"All the other gifts are obvious, Lestrade, yours especially. John is the one person who manages to surprise me once in a while." He explained.

"Well, there is no need to shake it. It could be breakable!"

"Is that a warning or a hint?" Lestrade's face turned a bright shade a red, so clearly he knew what was in the box, interesting, something big and breakable, probably a new microscope! Yes, it was almost exactly the right size. Now that he remembers he can recall complaining to John that his microscope and slides were old and needed to be replaced.

"Just wait until you open it, okay?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock smirked. He now knew what every gift was, he was half tempted just to out them all now, but the little voice in the back of his head that sounded freakishly like John was telling him to keep his mouth shut. He decided to sit down and ask Lestrade about any cold cases.

The party passed without much of a hitch. Sherlock did receive a "Happy Birthday, dear brother" text message from Mycroft he tried to ignore. Anderson left about an hour into the party claiming he had to meet an old friend, but Sherlock knew he was leaving to feed his cats. He didn't particularly care either way.

Both Molly and Mrs. Hudson had a great time, the two of them stuck together for most of the night, engaging in some interesting conversations about a television series. Sherlock was pretty sure Mrs. Hudson was beginning to see Molly as her own daughter (much like how she treated him like her son). He did his best to remain nice to Molly, civil. He was aware she recently broke up with Tim? Or Tom? Whatever his name was, it was would only be socially acceptable if he were kind.

Sherlock stuck close to Lestrade for most of the night, talking about old cases and some potential new ones. He didn't want to waste his time with Anderson and Molly and Mrs. Hudson seemed to be getting on quite well without him. John floated back and forth between everyone, adding his little comments here and there. Sherlock didn't really know what to do. He wasn't sure what John really thought of him, however nice it was for him to organize this party. He no longer lived at 221B, and while he was aware of Moriarty's return he had not actively participated much of the legwork. He knew the man was still upset with him after everything that happened. He didn't want to ruin the happy atmosphere by bringing it up either so he kept most of his attention on Lestrade.

Just as he predicted, he guessed all the gifts correctly, for the most part. Anderson had gotten him a new dear stalker hat that he intended to burn. Molly had gotten him human ears, Lestrade got him a wallet and Mrs. Hudson gave him sweets and a gift card to his favourite Thai food place. He was also correct with John's gift, a brand new microscope that came with its own lenses.

Mrs. Hudson then served them all her homemade birthday cake. It was, of course, his favourite, chocolate with raspberry sauce. Almost everyone had to go back for second servings. Molly had left shortly after the cake was served, and it was almost an hour later than Mrs. Hudson left.

"You just leave all this here for me tomorrow, Sherlock." She said as she gestured to the mess the living room was now. To be honest, Sherlock had no intentions of cleaning up; he knew if he left it long enough, Mrs. Hudson would clean it.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson." He called as she slowly made her way down the steps and into her own flat. That just left himself with John and Lestrade, although he could not see John at the moment. Perhaps he had ran off to the loo. He watched as Lestrade sat up from his heat and whipped his hands on his thighs.

"I best be off now too, Sherlock." He said as he made his way to the door, searching for his shoes.

"Yes, thank you for coming Lestrade, and for your gift." He did his best to sound sincere. Truth be told, it was getting quite late and he was slightly tired, although he did want to try out the new microscope, the sooner the DI left, the better.

"Don't thank me, Sherlock. Thank John, he did all this for you." He nodded. He knew he had to personally thank the army doctor for doing this for him. As much as social events are not his forte, he had to admit it was nice to actually celebrate his birthday with friends. It reminded him of life before his fall.

"I know… I owe John a lot." He admitted. He owed the man everything, had he not entered his life all those years ago, things would be very different.

"You're fall, Sherlock. It was rough on him and its fine and dandy that you returned, but things like this will take time. I know it's been a few months and a lot of stuff has happened since, but I can tell you without a doubt in my mind that John Watson loves you, and I know you love him, so just give it time okay?" Sherlock nodded his head in response. As much as he liked to make fun of the other man, the DI was one of only a few people Sherlock truly trusted and respected. Just like with John, had he not met Lestrade all those years ago, his life would have taken a very different path.

"Thank you, Detective Inspector…" He said. There was nothing else he needed to say. He was confident the DI knew how much he valued him as a friend. The older man was almost half out the door when he turned back with a smile on his face.

"Oh, and Sherlock? I think John will be in a very good and giving mood tonight. I hope you treat him well and enjoy it." Lestrade's entire face was gleaming as he left the building. Did he really mean what Sherlock thought he meant? He hasn't seen John for several minutes but he was positive he was still in the flat.

Almost as soon as he heard Lestrade shut the door to the building he heard a loud bang coming from inside his room, as if a couple books had fallen from his bookshelf. He silently walked close to his room, doing his best to avoid all the balloons and streamers.

"John?" He called. The light to the loo was off, so clearly he wasn't in there, that really only left Sherlock's own bedroom. There was no way he would have been able to climb up the creaky steps to his old bedroom without him hearing.

"I'm in here waiting, Sherlock" He heard John's voice coming from inside of his room. He couldn't help the rush of excitement that passed through him.

Smile on his face, Sherlock slowly opened the door to his bedroom. The entire room was dark but for the two bedside lights that managed to offer enough light to illuminate the bed. There, lying on the bed with nothing but his red pants was John.

Oh, how beautiful the sight was. For over two years Sherlock had yearned to see the man he loved in such a state. It was a slight shock considering how distant they have been with each other recently, but Sherlock did notice John was a bit more touchy-feely during the party. John just smiled and slowly stood up and walked over to Sherlock, wrapping his arms around the taller man. It was almost as though every negative thing that had happened in the past few months was erased and for tonight there was just Sherlock and John.

"Happy Birthday, Sherlock" He said in a voice much deeper than his normal one. Sherlock knew that voice well, though it has been so long since he's heard it. He smiled.

"Thank you so much, John. For everything." He said as he leaned down and gently placed his lips on the ones he has been longing two years for. John practically melted into his touch, his arms tightening around Sherlock as he deepened their kiss. Sherlock wrapped his own arms around John, mapping out the once familiar landscape of his back, fingers trailing over the smooth skin before coming to a stop as he reached the waistband of the red pants. John moaned as he played with the hem. Only once he was unable to go on without air did Sherlock break the kiss.

"I've missed you." He said was he reluctantly pried John's arms off his neck in order to take his jacket off. He quickly threw it to the floor. He was about to start undoing his many buttons on his shirt when he felt John's hands on his own.

"Let me?"

Sherlock paused. John's soft hands slowly and deliberately took their time as he gradually unbuttoned his shirt, taking the time to plant small kisses along the recently exposed skin. He couldn't help but shudder as he felt John's warm lips gently peck his nipples.

"John…" He murmured as the man he loved slowly trailed down his stomach with little kisses. Soon enough he reached the hem of his pants and only removed his mouth from Sherlock's skin long enough to pull the tight shirt off his shoulders and throw it on the floor to join his jacket. He then stepped back to take in the sight.

Sherlock could practically see John's mouth watering as he stared down his bare chest. For his part Sherlock was more than a little distracted by the naked chest just inches away from his face. He took in the sight of the once familiar body, now slightly slimmer than he was used to but it was still very much John.

He then looked down at his own body and tried not to wince at the sight of the small scar caused by the bullet wound he received months ago. The wound was almost completely healed and overall it was quite small, but it was still bright red and fairly noticeable against his pale skin. John seemed to sense his discomfort as he instantly stepped forward.

"Now we match." He said right before he kissed the very center of the scar. Sherlock couldn't help but flinch as the unexpected pressure, the wound was still slightly tender. Almost as soon as Sherlock flinched he felt John open his mouth and his tongue started licking the wound and John started sucking at it.

Sherlock couldn't help but gasp at the amazing feeling John's tongue was creating, a rush of pleasure passing through him. He grasped the other man by the shoulders and pushed him down so he was facing his groin. John automatically knew what he wanted. He felt those small, strong hands grip the hem of his trousers and he silently pulled them down.

Sherlock was already half hard, just the sight of John wearing nothing but those tight red pants and the administrations he just preformed were enough to get him started. It has been so long since he even paid attention to that part of his body. It wasn't important. It was just transport, now with John about to take him into his mouth he couldn't help but get excited.

"You're still so beautiful, Sherlock." John said as he took Sherlock in his mouth. Sherlock gasped at the pleasure that passed through him. His hands left John's shoulders and grabbed at his short, blonde hair.

He saw red when John started to suck. It had been so long, he couldn't help but thrust his hips harder into John, encouraging him to continue. The action caused John to choke a little but he continued and if possible started sucking faster.

"Oh, John!" Sherlock called. He could feel John's hands running along his back searching for purchase as Sherlock pounded further and further into his throat. He could feel John's tongue all over his cock. God, he missed this. Slowly he could feel himself become harder and harder and he knew it wouldn't take long for him to cum.

He felt John's hands on his hips and he literally pushed Sherlock harder into him, moaning as he did so. The vibration on his cock was all it took for Sherlock to completely lose control.

"John…. John I'm…" John opened his eyes and Sherlock was greeted with the sight of those beautiful, ocean blue eyes, glazed over with lust. That was all it took and he hardly had time to prepare himself before he was cumming in John's mouth.

John was wonderful. He continued to suck Sherlock through his orgasm. Taking in all the cum until it was dripping from his mouth and down his beautiful chin.

Almost as soon as he was completely spent Sherlock almost collapsed, his body drained. He slowly pulled himself out of John with a wet pop. John seemed to sense his exhaustion and instantly he had a hand out on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Alright Sherlock" He asked. For his part he could see the other man was sweating and if the bulge in this red pants was anything to go by he was just as aroused as Sherlock.

"I'm more than alright, John." He said with a smile. "Let's get to the bed." He said was he turned his gaze to his large, unoccupied bed. John smiled. He gently helped Sherlock to the bed, Sherlock was perfectly capable of getting there unaided but he had to admit he loved how John's supporting hand went right to his ass.

Together they made their way to the bed. John stopped and reached up on his tip toes to plant a kiss to Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock leaned in and deepened the kiss, he did not mind the John tasted like him; in fact it just made him more aroused knowing this. They continued their way to the bed in one passionate embrace, only breaking their kiss to gasp of air.

"I love you." John said as they tumbled on the bed together. Sherlock did his best to ease into the landing, being careful to not land completely on John, but John had other ideas and almost as soon as they landed he managed to flip both their bodies so he managed to be on top of Sherlock. He leant in to once again kiss Sherlock but Sherlock had to stop him.

"I think you're a tad overdressed for this John." He said as he gestured to the bulging red pants. John smiled and nodded his head. Sherlock took that as his queue as he reached down and took the hem of those red pants and pulled them all the way down to John's ankles, slowly revealing John's erect cock in the process. John gave a slight moan as his dick and balls were finally released from the confines of the pants. Sherlock wasted no time in taking the already, erect member in his hands.

"Oh, Sherlock. I'm sorry." John said as he buried his head in Sherlock's neck. Sherlock shook his head, confused.

"Don't be John, everything is fine." He didn't know why John was bringing this up now, the man was practically rutting against him.

"I just… I just messed everything up, nothing is the same, and I'm sorry." He could feel John's voice vibrate down his body. Sherlock shook his head again. He wouldn't let John feel bad about this. He was just as much to blame for the state of their relationship recently. He reached down and grabbed John's cock in his hands, causing the other man to groan slightly as his erect member was finally touched.

"I love you, John Watson, and I will never stop loving you." He said as he stroked John's member faster and faster, causing the other man to gasp and tremble.

"Oh fuck, Sherlock!" John cried out. Sherlock could feel the smaller man had tears in his eyes. He stroked faster as he started to lick John's earlobe and caress it with his tongue, causing the other man to tremble more.

"I… I… I just feel like I ruined everything-"

"You didn't, John. You were stronger than I could ever imagine. You didn't ruin a thing, I love you, John." He said as he continued to stroke John's cock, the man was so close now, he could feel the pre-cum coating his hands He gave a gentle squeeze and touched him just the way he liked it.

"Come for me now, John"

"Fuck! Sherlock!" John cried as he came, semen coating Sherlock's stomach as he rode him through his orgasm. Once he was spent John practically collapsed on Sherlock as he completely deflated. Sherlock easily took his weight and instantly started giving him mini kisses along his neck and shoulders. John gave a deep sigh of contentment.

"Fuck, Sherlock… I love you." He said as he wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and buried his head in the taller man's shoulder, not seeming to care about Sherlock's semen coated stomach. Well, if he didn't seem to mind, Sherlock wasn't going to comment, he rather liked the feeling of John's cum all over him.

"I love you too, John Watson, don't worry about a thing, we will make this work." And he would, he wouldn't worry about the details now, he would leave them for later. All he cared about now was that he was naked in bed with the man he loved most in this world, and everything would be fine.

It was by far, his best birthday ever…


End file.
